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An unusual work day

'Come on boy, come down now. It’s time to go. We are getting late!!', Ram hollered at the tree without a pause and walked towards and through the clearing.
Manu looked at him going out and started climbing down the tree. He didn’t like being left behind and Ram's going to the clearing meant the longer he took getting down from that tree, the longer the distance he'll have to cover to catch up with him; and that man walked fast.
So he climbed down fast and ran after him. 
It was his favourite pass time, Manu’s. Sitting on that heavy branch, halfway up the tall Peepal tree, and watching the sunshine break way and glimmer over and through the spaces between the rooftops and treetops early in the morning was the best moment of most of his days. He got up early, climbed that single, old, tall tree and sat there each morning till he heard Ram call him out to go for breakfast and start work day.
Breakfast meant a steel bowl of milk and a small pack of glucose biscuits for Manu. O…

Changing Norms

Watching PM Modi on TV boast about the historical feat he has achieved with demonisation had me feeling déjà vu yesterday.
Of course the first reaction was a half smirk-laugh that maybe we have reserved only for the most repulsive moments; moments which disgust you to a certain level of discomfort when you wish you could wash and clean your mind somehow the way you do your body. But what followed that was déjà vu.
If you watch late night American talk shows like me, or in this case, if you watch news at all, you would've seen a certain Trump conference where he boasts about the how good the Muslim Ban1 has been implemented and how everything is going so smooth at the airports. And because I had seen that clip so many times on so many shows, you can guess how I felt watching that part of PM Modi's speech on TV.
The more you see of these two lately, the more it looks like they are picking ideas and habits from each other. People outside of India even call PM Modi the Trump of I…

The unseen voice I follow

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People often associate reverence, piety and closeness to God with a certain wisdom (or knowledge) in the sense that one realises the frivolity of worldly affairs and life and ascends to deeper knowledge of conscience. As one moving out to the mountains and removing oneself from capital and carnal desires.

One is wise, people of faith say, if he listens to the reasons of God and not that of the people.

Let me try and paint a scene for you in relation to this.

Suppose, that you find yourself in a strange, dreamy sort of a place/space; a sort of square with people standing about. You don't know any of the people there even though there are a lot of them. You obviously want to know where you are and how you could go out and back to your home from there. People approach you and you tell them what is it that you want and all of them try to show and tell you the way you should take, very opinionatedly. You get confused and get more worried than before, knowing not who to listen to and w…

Roses are red...

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Roses are red The sky is blue
But 
Isn't it true, that skies turn red too
And boy, I tell you I once saw a rose blue
And swear I, such was its hue that left me amazed, the closer i grew
And I must tell you of the red sky I knew (it) looked like a satin in the sky someone sewed
Wonder fills one's eyes to see it, I'll give you this cue, no other colour makes it more beautiful, that much is true.

The Village-Town Girl - NaPoWriMo - #25

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She was a girl of a small village town
a small town, with fields brown
But in the fields, there were other colours too
green and yellow yes, with ponds clean & blue

The houses were beautiful, and so were the folk
but there was a problem, hidden beneath a cloak


See in that town, there were no young men only ageing and old, except for the women
And women were there, mind you aplenty each home with daughters, less than a twenty
And just as the rest, this girl had no boy a friend hadn't even met one she, let alone do some time spend 
In all of seventeen years of her life, she never once thought she could be a wife
And spent her time she, hearding the sheep sitting by the stream, slipping into sleep
But one day, when she opened her eyes, she found a boy standing near, to her surprise
And asked him who he is, and whence he come, so he said he was travelling, as it was autumn
Travelling where, the maiden wanted to know
why, to here my dear lady, it is a village, no?

I am not a lady mister, a lady is my mo…

The World Outside - NaPoWriMo - #23

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Mommy, is it true?

Tell me, is it true that outside,
there is a place where, water flows freely on the rocks,
and it flows and it flows and it flows, it never stops;
tell me, is that true?

Yes dear son, my baby,
it is true; but that place is in heaven, it is not here,
here is only the small tanks, which you see; you see,
the water is very costly, only so much for you and me

But tell me mommy, does my friend lie?
Omar, my friend, who lives three containers away;
he says, there is a place outside, where so many trees stand, 
that you cannot see the sun; he says, it is called a forest

Yes love of my life,
there is that place, but not in this world dear child;
he must be, talking about the heaven again, where lie
hundreds of fruity trees, for you all waiting in line

No!! But he says it is here, in our world,
and he says there are so many animals, on the ground
and even in water, all outside the wall; tell me mommy,
how can anyone live in water? don't they ever die?

Oh no no, you get it wro...

Wait but momm…